


Massive Heels

by Chie



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chie/pseuds/Chie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's not the wisest decision to wear heels and Kommissar learns that soon enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massive Heels

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, here is another fanfic, instead of preparing for my exams. This one was inspired by [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yFXv3u56Chc) where Birgitte talks about the shoes she wore during the Riff-off scene.
> 
> This time I didn’t have it proofread, so I’m sorry for any mistakes that might occur (I’m not a native English speaker).
> 
> This is the last fic for a while but I’ll be back and taking prompts, too, so feel free to drop me any. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Beca closed the door behind her. She quickly located herself and started walking in the direction where she suspected the basement club was. Now that all the singing, chanting and talking had died down, it seemed to be a challenge to find it in that huge house.

Beca hummed quietly to herself as she turned right at the end of a corridor and saw the dim lights of the room she had headed to. She quickened the pace of her steps, eager to catch up with the rest of the Bellas and finally get back home after a most embarrassing defeat at the Riff-off.

Why was she still roaming the corridors of their strange host’s house when she should have been with the girls as logic dictated? For one thing, she really needed to use the bathroom and besides that, she may have – sort of _accidentally_ – left her phone there earlier, hoping that she might come across a certain German blondie when retrieving it. But luck was not in her favour that night as she almost reached the curtains that separated the centre room from the corridors sprawling all across the house and there was practically nobody in sight.

Suddenly she heard a muffled moan from behind a closed door she had just passed. She froze in her steps and kept her ears open to make sure she hadn’t hallucinated. But a strange noise was still coming through the threshold, so she mustered all her courage and knocked on the door before hesitantly opening it.

“ _Pieter, bist du da_?” came a familiar voice.

“Um… no, it’s me Beca,” she answered and got closer only to find Kommissar sitting on the floor in what appeared to be a kind of storing room. It was so unusual to see the German woman not towering over her. A second, more thorough look gave further proof that something was odd with her; she was bent over her left foot and looked up at Beca with gritted teeth.

“What is wrong? Can I help somehow?” The words left her mouth unconsciously, she didn’t even have to think about them. Yes, Kommissar and DSM were the Bella’s competitors but in that moment it meant nothing. The only important fact was that the woman obviously needed help, _her_ help.

She could see that Kommissar was a bit hesitant about her reply; it must have been embarrassing for her to lose her usual cool and composed façade and let her vulnerable side be exposed. All the more so, to Beca, of all people, who was always beyond careless in her presence, giving away all her admiration, which Kommissar happened to enjoy to no end. But she measured the situation reasonably, seeing that the Bella was the only person she could get help from.

“Someone bumped into me on the dance floor so I sprained my ankle. I came into this room to rest it a bit but I still cannot stand on it,” she confessed fretfully.

“And why haven’t you asked for help?” Beca was dumbfounded. It was such an evident thing to do and she couldn’t come up with a reason why Kommissar, being as intelligent and clever as she was, hadn’t thought of it.

“Do these trousers look like they have a pocket?” came the slightly irritated reply. She wore those tight leather trousers Beca had secrectly been staring at the whole night. “My phone is with Pieter,” she explained after seeing the Bella’s unasked question.

“Okay, no worries, just call him on mine,” she offered her phone. The blonde took it with a nod and quickly dialled the other leader of DSM. She described what happened in a few brief sentences, then handed back the phone.

“He said he would he here soon,” she assured Beca.

“Right, let’s take a look at your ankle until he arrives to see how serious the damage is.” With that, she knelt down beside Kommissar and couldn’t help but whistle when she saw the shoes in question. “Wow, those are some massive heels!” she exclaimed, but the next second her hand was already searching for the zipper. She unzipped it and removed the shoe, careful not to cause any pain. 

“How bad is it?” asked the German.

“Well, your ankle has swelled to at least twice its original size. If you ask me, your boot was the only thing that held it in place until now.” Beca examined the foot more closely but did not dare to touch it. “I think we’d better put your…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence because at that moment the door swung open to reveal a concerned looking Pieter. He must have been somewhere near, having arrived minutes after the call. He rushed to Kommissar, barely noticing the Bella next to her.

“ _Was hast du gemacht_?” he demanded furiously. The blonde repeated what she had explained earlier to Beca, but that didn’t make him any less mad. “I told you not to wear these boots tonight! Now let’s go, the others are also worried for you,” he scolded her quietly, then stood up and bent down to take her into his arms.

Beca followed them without a word as they made their way outside. Once they were out in the fresh air, Kommissar stopped Pieter and turned to the Bella.

“Thank you, Feisty Maus. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still be in that room unable to move” she said with a grateful smile. This time there was no mocking or superiority in her eyes. Pieter also nodded and offered a friendly smile. Well, as friendly as his smile could be.

“Sure thing, anyone would have done it in my place,” Beca shrugged, uncomfortable by this change of attitudes.

“I am thankful nonetheless. See you at Worlds.” She stroked the smaller girl’s cheek ever so lightly and bade her goodbye.

As their silhouettes disappeared in the shadows, Beca was still standing there, a hand on her cheek. Maybe she _was_ lucky that night.

The memory of that glowing smile lingered on her for a long time.

 

 

 

Translations:

“ _Pieter, bist du da_?”  Pieter, is that you? (Literally: Are you there?)

“ _Was hast du gemacht_?”  What have you done?

 


End file.
